While You Were Creeping Read online

  A deal was a deal.

  But whenever we ended up around my family, he played the dutiful boyfriend. Sometimes a little too well. Sliding his hand around my waist, rubbing my back, kissing my forehead.

  A girl could only take so much, okay?

  When we were alone again, we’d go back to our separate corners. And I’d think to myself, was it all an act?

  Was I even acting anymore? Because those back rubs and forehead kisses felt pretty fucking amazing.

  Ugh.

  I stayed the course. It wasn’t easy keeping myself in check. My brain would stray to the what-ifs, trying to work out the logistics in my head of how something more would even work between me and Kye.

  He’s leaving.

  One way or another, Kye was only a temporary fixture in my life.

  It’d become all too real when I pulled Dad aside a few nights ago to ask him about interdimensional prisons.

  A retired Quar Loy guard—the territory-wide law enforcement agency—I figured he might know something about it or point me in the right direction.

  “That’s a real strange question...” he’d murmured, bringing up his ankle to rest on his knee. “Why’re you asking?”

  I’d shrugged. “Just curious. I didn’t know they existed until recently.”

  I could tell by the way Dad’s thumb had tapped the arm of his chair that he wanted to dig deeper. The old guard in him, I figured. But my dad was also of a mind that if someone wanted to talk, they’d do it on their own time. And I loved him for it.

  “That’s something a specialized federal unit would deal with, hon,” he’d finally said. “Above my pay grade.”

  I’d comm searched every damn variation of interdimensional prison since then and, let me just say, the amount of conspiracy theory threads I sifted through had me paranoid about leaving my bedroom.

  I needed to start small and at square one. Square one was the cube and the elf who’d given it to me. That, unfortunately, meant I’d have to talk to George since Fiona in the office didn’t have any helpful info.

  The warehouse lights flipped back on, the moment between Kye and I washed away with the dark.

  “Lights check complete!” Midi shouted from across the warehouse. “All bulbs alive!”

  I scratched the back of my neck and turned, going through my to-do list for the millionth time, but I didn’t even see the words anymore.

  They were gibberish. Had no meaning whatsoever.

  All my brain could process was the sound of Kye’s chains as he moved away.

  FOURTEEN

  HOLLY

  “Damn, he’s the best Krampus we’ve ever had.” Jenny, Evergreen Queen of ’16, sighed and stared at the float Kye was on.

  My gloved fingers tightened over the railing of the balcony where I stood. It was tradition—and a requirement—that every active committee Queen congregate there, sashes worn and sporting bright smiles.

  Yes, that’s really what the contract said.

  The tourists and residents of Tinsel lined the square, and all along Market Street, directly ahead. Lights on the floats twinkled, glowed, and flashed under the clear night sky dotted with bright stars and the four moons of Dor Nye.

  It couldn’t be more perfect for a parade.

  My eyes found Kye as soon as his float had rounded up ahead. I found myself laughing when he saucily twirled his length of chain or tossed his head back and roared, ‘I’ve come to punish the wicked!’

  His dark elves danced around the holographic bonfire on the float, in between their spurts of tossing oranges to the crowds.

  The people ate it up and, per usual every year, women—and some men—yelled back, ‘punish me! Punish me!’

  Kye stole the show and I felt bad for the Santa float behind him. The old man barely got any action except when he threw candy.

  What could I say? Sex sells.

  Display after display floated down the road, eliciting ooohs and ahhs. Kye drew closer and closer until he was nearly right below the balcony.

  His eyes found mine.

  The corner of his mouth hitched up in a sly smile that had debauchery written all over it.

  “Holly!” he shouted and held up an orange before he chucked it at me.

  I caught it.

  “Saved it for you. And I’ve got a switch with your name on it!” He winked and pointed his bundle of branches at me.

  Oh god, please make it stop.

  My eyes bugged and blood rushed to my face as fellow Queens howled and shouted things like, ‘get it girl’ and ‘don’t be gentle with her, Krampus!’

  The rest of the procession was a blur. I ate my orange, relishing how sweet it was. The orange and the gesture.

  Had Kye noticed how hungrily I’d stared at the barrel of oranges earlier? I’d kept myself from taking one. Didn’t seem right, since they were meant for the parade, even if it was just one tiny fruit.

  And I’d thought way too much about Kye spanking me.

  That wasn’t my kink. Not ever. And I wasn’t interested in getting a switch across my butt.

  No thank you.

  But the idea of Kye’s rough palms slapping my ass cheeks one at a time? Maybe even groping me a little afterward?

  Fuck. Me.

  I’d squeezed my thighs together more times than I could count through the rest of the parade.

  Good thing I’d worn a sweater dress and thick tights underneath. It was like my downstairs decided now was a good time for a flood.

  My vibrator would get so much abuse later.

  The floats had disappeared, back off to the warehouse and just as I checked the time, my parade assistant showed.

  “Hey Holly, here ya go.” She passed me the satchel I’d put under Kye’s float throne. The cube had been neatly tucked into it.

  “Thanks, Neeka. Great job tonight.”

  “Teamwork!” She cheered and left.

  Kye and I had tested the radius of the cube earlier in the week, trying to figure out just how far he could be away from the cube before he felt it try to pull him back.

  Three hundred feet was the safest, which made things a little complicated since I wouldn’t be around to carry the cube for Kye, and he couldn’t physically move it.

  Trust me, he tried. It was like watching the alien version of King Arthur trying to remove Excalibur from its stone—if he’d failed.

  So, we had to get crafty.

  I slung the satchel across my body and moved off the balcony, finding my way to the ground floor. I shrugged into my coat when the door opened and Kye appeared.

  Knew he couldn’t have been far.

  “Hi.”

  He slow-grinned. “Hi.”

  Why did that grin make my toes curl in my boots? My ladybits weren’t faring very well either. If my clitoris could stand and say hi, it would’ve.

  Well, it had the standing part down-pat.

  Quick! Think about something terrible!

  The smell of fresh cut grass...

  A stubbed toe...

  The sound of cracking knuckles!

  I shivered. That helped. Not a lot, but I’d take it.

  “Ready for your spanking?” He twirled the bundle of branches.

  Goddammit!

  “Ha ha, cute.”

  Not cute at all.

  “Let’s get to the party. You have adoring fans who need those branches more than I do.”

  ****

  KYE

  I doubt that.

  Like I’d pegged soon after meeting this witchy woman, Holly was tightly wound. Why? I had a couple theories.

  She brushed past me, her soft scent floating through the air in her wake. She smelled better than the Christmas cookies I’d been scarfing nonstop.

  I followed, my gaze drifting from her low ponytail all the way to her high heeled-boots. I’d seen that knee-length dress earlier, even if it hid under her red coat right now.

  It hugged every damn curve Holly had. Curves I wanted to sink my claws and teeth i
nto.

  Now, one might think my balls were bluer than the darkest moon that hung in the sky right now—which may be true—but my begrudging attraction to this witch (human? I still hadn’t decided.) was so fucking annoying.

  And fucking good.

  Real good.

  And distracting.

  So damn distracting.

  “Punish me, Krampus!” someone shouted as Holly and I moved with the crowd into the town square where a band strummed their instruments too hard to a rock rendition of a Christmas song.

  Holly’s eyes followed the sound and a frown lodged between her sleek brows before it smoothed away. Her face went blank.

  She was an expert at that. Hiding her true thoughts and feelings. Making a person believe she didn’t care about whatever thing they spoke of.

  It played into my first theory that she was purposefully keeping herself closed off. Why? Because someone, or some incident in her life, taught her to hold her cards close.

  What Holly didn’t know? Her body language said so fucking much even if that blank expression didn’t.

  I’d had days to suss out her habits. Watch what made her tick, what irritated her, what soothed her, and what made her grumble under her breath.

  Hint to that last one: started with Christmas and ended with decorations.

  I smirked.

  “Better get to your fans,” she cheerily urged. That tone didn’t match her face. “I’ll meet you by The Bowl after? It’s just across the street and they’re selling chocolate dipped everything.”

  I followed her gaze. A group of women waved and urged me over.

  I’d had fun on the float. More fun than I imagined I’d have. It felt good to shout nonsense and try something new. But right now?

  Right now, leaving Holly’s side was the last thing I wanted to do.

  “Nah.” I shook my head and hefted the sack of oranges off my shoulder. “Great thing about Krampus? There’re about ten other ones here.”

  It only took me a few seconds to find a human with a Krampus costume and hand him my props.

  “What’s this?” he asked, and I pointed at the group of fans as Holly’d called them.

  “Give them a whack or two with the branches and a couple oranges. Have fun.”

  When I turned back to Holly, her plump red lips were parted and she tossed her hands in the air. “Why’d you do that? You’re letting down the women of Tinsel right now.”

  You’re the only woman I don’t want to let down right now.

  Did I say that aloud? No.

  Did I want to say that aloud? Also no.

  “You’re the only one I want to spank tonight.”

  I wanted to say that, though.

  Holly guffawed. It was a little high pitched with a nervous edge. She gave me some serious side-eye before she stumbled over her words and her cheeks grew a rosy shade of red.

  “Funny. Funny guy.” She wagged her finger and shook her head. “Spanking. Funny.”

  “Holly, look at me.”

  She stalled, her gaze darting around her as if checking to see if I meant another Holly.

  I grasped her chin and pulled her attention to me.

  “What?”

  “Dance with me.”

  “Ha!” she burst, frosted breath puffing in front of her face. Incredulity turned to sudden head shaking and nervous denial. “No. No I don’t know how to dance. Kye, stop!”

  She pulled on my hand as I dragged her farther into the crowd, finding a good spot near the middle.

  “I’m not being modest,” she whisper-hissed, her nails digging into my arm.

  I suppressed my growl. Those nails would feel better digging into my sides as she pulled me deeper between her legs.

  Not what I should be envisioning right now.

  “It’s fine, I’ve got hooves. You can step on them all you want.”

  “While I look like an idiot, you mean.”

  My hand slid against hers, dwarfing it. I looped my arm around her, holding her close.

  “This-this isn’t even a slow song,” she squeaked. “People are starting to stare!”

  “It’s slow enough.” Not really, but that didn’t stop me from holding her tight as I made her move with me. Nothing fancy, just a little swaying to get her used to it.

  “Look, you’re dancing.”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

  Had I mentioned her smile was blinding? It was so rare, it was a pity she didn’t show it off.

  Look at me, noticing off-the-wall shit about a berchta. Before memories of the past could bubble up and ruin my mood, I dipped Holly.

  An honest bout of laughter spilled out of her and, when I brought her upright again, all that nervous energy had melted from her face.

  “There she is,” I murmured. A glimpse of who I thought might be hiding under all those schooled expressions.

  The urge to kiss her took over every good sense I had—which wasn’t much at that point.

  I went with it. My hand grasping her ponytail as I pressed my mouth to hers, careful of my tusks yet highly aware of how they warmed against her skin.

  She went as rigid as an old board in my arms.

  Only for a second.

  An eternity of a second, but only a second.

  When she molded against me, her fingers curling into my chest fur to tug me closer...

  Fuck.

  This might be a problem.

  A real fucking problem.

  If my history had taught me anything, it was that berchtas weren’t to be trifled with.

  Funny thing about history though?

  It had a way of repeating itself.

  FIFTEEN

  HOLLY

  I brushed my fingertips across my bottom lip, remembering Kye’s kiss from two nights ago while I stood in the quiet great room. The afternoon sun made the snow in the backyard glitter as the weekly Zax snowball fight took place.

  Snow forts had been made and a maze of half-walls expertly crafted for ducking behind riddled the clearing between the opposing teams.

  I’d opted out, preferring to watch, but not Kye.

  Jag, Dirk, and Troy were always a hard team to beat, but Kye could pack a mean snowball we’d learned. And his aim took me by surprise.

  Dirk too, if his sputtering was any clue after he took a ball to the face.

  I quietly laughed and accepted a mug of cocoa from my sister-in-law, Ivy.

  “Was sweet of Kye to pick the boys for his team,” she said, smiling as Kye grabbed one of the younglings around the middle and hoofed it down the field before diving behind a snow wall. “Wasn’t sure it was safe. You know how rough the three stooges can be.”

  “Mhm,” I hummed. Jag, Dirk, and Troy meant well, but sometimes they forgot their own strength.

  “By the way,” she sing-songed. “The parade made League One’s front page.”

  “WHAT?!” I shouted. “Shut up!”

  Ivy gleamed, nodding. “Made the list of Top 5 Quirky Events. The Lodge has been inundated with calls and reservations. We’re officially booked solid for the month of December the next three years.”

  My mouth fell open. Ivy slid a transparent tablet off the coffee table and brought up the article, handing it to me.

  I sat my cocoa down and eagerly ate up every word and all its photos. Moving images of the floats and the actors were bright and crystal clear.

  I read aloud, “If you ever wondered what Christmas on Earth might’ve been like, Tinsel is the town to visit. Try your hand at crafting the best gingerbread house or compete in the Running of the Santas. Maybe you just want some candy and a few swats from the local Krampus during the Kringle Parade. Whatever your preference, Tinsel’s got you covered.”

  This never happened! League One was the biggest global news outlet. They covered everything from capitol elections to interplanetary trade deals and gossip on high-ranking families.

  To make it to one of their top five anything lists was insane exposu
re for Tinsel. But that they specifically displayed coverage from the Kringle Parade?

  It made my little heart bash excitedly against my bones, trying to escape.

  “The boss wanted me to tell you, you’ve got a free spa day any time you want it as a small thank you.” Ivy winked and took a sip of her cocoa.

  The Mezook Lodge, where Ivy managed the finances, was the biggest hotel in Tinsel.

  “Thanks but,” I set the tablet down and grabbed my mug, “the parade is a team effort. The crew works hard, not just me.”

  Ivy shrugged. “Stop being modest. Without your vision, the crew wouldn’t have a direction and be the success it is. So, shush,” she bumped my shoulder with hers, “and take this as a win. It’s good for Tinsel tourism.”

  We turned our attention back to the windows, watching the snowball fight.

  Ivy’s words warmed me, but I knew this year wouldn’t have been a success without the help of one giant, horned and hooved guy whom I currently stared at.

  Seemed my debt to him was stacking up.

  How would I ever repay it all?

  My giddy mood instantly plummeted as I remembered exactly how. Rather, who I would have to call to accomplish the how.

  “I’ve got some calls to make.” I raised my mug. “Thanks for the cocoa.”

  “Any time,” Ivy said, but her eyes were fixated on the warzone outside.

  Once back in my apartment, I took a deep breath, as if it could fortify me against the rising feeling of dread.

  Didn’t work.

  I tapped on my comm and opened a connection to George.

  “Hello?”

  I raised my eyes to the ceiling, silent.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, George,” I finally replied. “It’s Holly. I’m calling because Fiona—in the office,” I added, because apparently I thought he knew a lot of Fionas and I needed to clarify, “said you might have the contact info I’m searching for. I need to get in touch with one of the elves.”

  “Er, okay. Hi, and one sec.”

  ‘Who is it?’ Perry whispered in the background.

  “Holly,” George whispered back, like I couldn’t hear, but at least he didn’t lie to her. He had a history of doing that. “Give me a minute.”

  For a little while, all I heard was muffled air and then, “Holly?”